


I know I wanted far too much

by blueishdesire



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Comfort, M/M, Missing, Sad, and i don't know what more, coping with reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 11:51:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18249269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueishdesire/pseuds/blueishdesire
Summary: A human craving to be touched. To be loved. To be that person. Someone’s else whole world. He wanted hugs, small kisses, stupid smiles, and even more dumb laughs. He wants to cuddle on the couch, waking up next to them, he wants shared breakfast and stolen toasts with cherry jam. Freezing breaths shared in small alleys, whispers of love between one kiss and another. He aches for it all. For everything. For even more.





	I know I wanted far too much

**Author's Note:**

> Some time ago I was walking aimlessly around my city, Cigarettes After Sex on a constant loop and I was thinking and walking and thinking and walking and somehow I started writing this, then I stopped and then I came back to end it differently. I was ready to post this some time ago, but I didn't, this weekend was rough and I read this all over again and thought 'was is this' and today ... well today I decided to just put it up in here.  
> Some good music recommendation - of course Cigarettes After Sex (especially Sweet, Apocalypse, Sunstez and I could go on and on about it but just listen to all) and also Years&Years - Take Shelter but the acoustic version, bc even though I love the original, the acoustic one just blows my fucking mind. And The National - I Need my Girl!
> 
> PS: Of course all errors are mine

_ I’ll wait until you have to go, _

_ I’ll make it so you never ever know _

_ How much I have messed it up _

 

It was cold. Not going outside and freezing your ass of cold but more like staying inside with hot chocolate (good amount of sugar in it) curled on the couch with a book or even Netflix playing on tv. Cheeks flushed, red nose, hands deep down in your pockets. Crispy air seeping through your clothes, claiming your heat. Sun looking at you, smiling at your face with pleasurable rays. Normal winter in Paris. 

It was nice, being in town again. Surrounded by familiar and unfamiliar places. It’s not New York when you can hide with ease, just fade with the wave of people, because being known doesn’t mean you are “so known”. Here is different. Almost like breathing different oxygen, blinking away from the different sun. It is nice. A sundry type of nice. 

He closes the doors, warm hitting his cheeks and icy hands. Spreading over him in waves as he stripes from his jacket. He pulls his phone from the pocket, checking notifications. Sighing in disappointment.  _ Just even one fucking text  _ he thinks miserably, taking a deep breath, hiding his face in his hands, rubbing them slightly. Self-loathing isn’t a good idea, under any circumstances. But he wants him to call, to text, to fucking show some interest. They haven’t seen each other for such a long time, he craves for the tiniest gesture from him - a smile, a happy sigh,  _ ‘I love you’ _ whispered over the phone in a hushed voice, only for him to hear it. They were an ocean apart, on totally different continents and time zones, but does it matter?! They could always find their way. Always. He feels frustrated because he wants him. All for himself. And then even more frustrated for wanting this so fucking badly. He wants to wake up next to him every morning, go to bed with him by his side every night, to kiss him whenever he wants to, to laugh and smile with him. Is this really too much to ask?

He loves his job, it was acting for a long time now and he can’t be more happy and satisfied knowing where he is now. Knowing that he did it. Mesmerizing yourself in character, becoming one in the process of making a movie, all the research, all the small and big things he needed to learn - like brushing his skills on piano or learning Italian. Doing the things he most probably wouldn’t do in all his life if not because of acting. But except all that - or perhaps above all of that - he still is human. A human craving to be touched. To be loved. To be that person. Someone’s else whole world. He wanted hugs, small kisses, stupid smiles, and even more dumb laughs. He wants to cuddle on the couch, waking up next to them, he wants shared breakfast and stolen toasts with cherry jam. Freezing breaths shared in small alleys, whispers of love between one kiss and another. He aches for it all. For everything. For even more. This feeling is consuming him little by little, claiming his heart, his mind, his body. He is sick with wanting it all and not being able to get it. 

He wraps himself in a grey blanket, curling on the couch in a fetal position. He should eat something. Watch something. Take his mind off of him. But it all seems too much. Too much of trying. He closes his eyes, drifting away slowly, remembering vividly that summer. Italy. Rainy and hot. How happy he was. He wants to go back. Rewrite the story. So this summer would never end and he would never go away. He falls asleep, the image of Armie laughing like a gif on a constant loop playing in his head. He might even hear that soft chuckle, that sweet sound reverberating in his ears like the most delicious music.

 

* * *

 

He feels chapped fingertips stroking his cheek. The familiar scent clinging to him, enveloping him like a bubble. It’s a dream. He knows it is. He doesn’t want to wake up, he wants to live in this dream. His eyes are watering and he curses himself for being this weak. 

“Hey, baby wake up”The voice is real, vivid in his ears and he doesn’t want it to end so fucking much. He needs him. For a few seconds. For a few minutes. He needs to look at him, breath the same air, feel his presence in the same space just for one fucking minute. And he will be fine. He will handle the rest somehow. He will handle being alone. Away. Not able to touch, to kiss, to breath in. He doesn’t know how - but he needs to see him for a brief moment. Just a second. 

“Timmy please wake up”

The plea in his voice breaks him more. The pain never goes away and is now throbbing inside him like it’s another soul in the same body. 

He opens his eyes, there’s no other way to face the truth. Those blue eyes are piercing through him, fear and worry mixed with guilt. 

“You’re not real” he mumbles, clenching his fists into couch cushions.

“Hey, baby no. I’m here. I’m right here. I’ll never leave you. I could never leave you”

Then he is pressed to Armie’s chest, the warm heating his body, telling him this is real. Because he needs to believe it’s real. Because if just for a second he will think it’s not true, the bubble will disappear and with it the last strings that unite him, he will break. Fall apart into pieces like smashed glass. 

The fingers threading through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp feel solid. His eyes are filling with tears and he can’t help himself to stay like this for just a little bit longer. For just another second.

“Hey listen to me” Armie says, pushing him away and cupping his face, blue eyes locked with his “I’m right here. I came to be with you. This doesn’t feel real to you?” he takes his hand, puts on his chest, just where his heart is. He can feel the steady heartbeat underneath his palm and the warmness heating his fingertips. Suddenly he’s aware how cold the apartment is,  that his own nose is probably red from the chill, that Armie is still wearing a coat. But most of all that he really is here. His hair is shorter now, his chest and shoulder still muscular and broad. Timmy can’t think much about it, because in the same second it’s all come clear in his head, he does what he was dying to do. Launches forward, smashing their lips together in a hard, fierce kiss.

 

* * *

 

Bath is filled in almost burning water, when Armie carefully strips him off of his clothes, putting them on the floor. He shivers, cold piercing his body and even warm hands of Armie can’t help him.

“Come on. In you go” he clutches tightly to his arm, his body trembling when his legs break the water surface. He greets the warm with happy relief, his muscles contracting in a sudden change of temperatures. 

“Please don’t go” sobbing plead escapes his lips when he sees Armie going away. He tightens the grip on his forearm, terrified that once he will let him out of his sight, he will just disappear. That after all it’s only his stupid imagination, creating something he is craving but can’t have “Please” he repeats quieter, his voice softly pleading. He doesn’t want to cry, but tears somehow find their way to his eyes and he can’t stop them. Not when he feels so fucking broken when he feels he will shatter in thousands of pieces in a matter of seconds when his soul is bruised when his whole being is wounded, covered in invisible black-and-blue marks. 

Armie doesn’t say anything, just undresses himself and slips inside the hot bathtub, his chest to Timmy’s back and for the first time in many months, Timmy can finally breathe.

 

“We need to talk” 

He looks at him, his hair dump and he shuts his eyes for a second. He doesn’t want to talk about it, but he knows he has to. 

“Timmy please” he wonders for a minute if there will be a time when his voice won’t have this effect on him. If he will listen but his heart won’t stop for a tiny little bit if he will say something to him and it will be just that - meaningless words shared between people who once cared about each other, but aren’t anymore. Because now you’re complete strangers, even though some time ago you couldn’t imagine life without each other.

He takes a deeper breath, certain that he could never be prepared for this. 

“I just want things to be different” it’s what comes from his mouth. There are so many things to say, so many things he struggles with, but he can’t really wrap his head around it all. It feels too much all at once because he wants, he fucking craves and he knows it’s insane, harmful to his own sanity, but there isn’t much he can do about it. Some days are better, some days are worse. Today he is just terrified. His heart clenches tightly in anticipation that as soon as Armie will find out how much he craves for him, how clingy to him he’d become, he will leave and never come back. That he will lose all the small things - the touches, kisses, ‘ _ love you _ ’ whispered through the phone. He always looked for those moments to come and now he can’t stop thinking that it might be their last time. Just because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut and wanted more. So fucking more.Why he is so fucking stupid and screws everything?!

“Hey baby you need to talk to me” Armie says softly, coming closer, intertwining their hands. He feels the warm waving from him, the luscious scent softly surrounding all of him. He feels good. Safe. So he just let's go. 

“I want you. So so bad that it kills me every time I’m not with you. I want to wake up cuddled next to you, I want to eat breakfast with you, I want to go out and pay horrendous price for tickets for some stupid, cliche movie, so I can hold your hand in the theater and kiss you when the lights are off, I want to fall asleep on the couch on top of you when we watch tv, I want to have fights with you and say sorry for overreacting and have amazing sex afterward. I want to peck you softly on the lips, I want to see your smile every day, I want to hear chuckles escaping your mouth when I say or do something stupid, I want to give you presents for no reason besides the fact that I’m completely in love with you. And I want to say this to you every day, every minute of my life, that I love you, that you’re the best thing that happened to me, that I feel whole when I’m with you, that you’re precious and pure, that you’re amazing human being and I can only thank universe that I get to know you. I want all this and much much more” he finally says, his face buried in Armie’s chest because it’s somehow easier to let it all out when he’s not looking at him. His voice muffled by the fabric of Armie’s white shirt, his hand wrapped tightly around Armie’s waist.  _ This _ is his safe place.

“And I’m terrified with every fiber of my body that as soon as you realize how much I need you, you’ll just leave. I’m so fucking scared that you will disappear from my life. I can’t be without you anymore” tears are running down his cheeks, dampening the fabric and he somehow registers that he’s shaking madly and Armie’s hand are rubbing small circles on his lower back. He kisses his temple, pressing his mouth to his skin, then he pulls Timmy back, cupping his face in both his hands and looking at him solemnly.

“I love you. Do you hear me?! I love you so fucking much it hurts when I’m not with you. And I want all those things. With you. Because I can’t imagine future without you there” he tucks one of Timmy’s curls behind his ear, his fingers shaking slightly “I love you” he whispers one more time straight to Timmy’s parted lips, before merging their mouths together in a soft and candid kiss.

They both quite aren’t sure when things get messy, desire bubbling in their veins, urgency burning their skin. Timmy craves it with his whole being, to be as close to Armie as he physically can, perfectly knowing that even then it won’t be enough. It’s never enough.

“I need to you” he whines, when Armie mouths on his exposed throat “I really need you” his voice sounds broken even to him and he just wants to be consumed by this hunger. The rest of his words are swallowed by Armie’s tongues inside his mouth, the wrecked moan escaping them, straight to Armie’s parted lips. The kiss deepens and they stumble around the apartment, undressing and tossing clothes in every direction because the only thing that matters is them being together. The desire eating their bodies, the love consuming their hearts. They can’t stop touching, always being connected to one another, afraid that it will shatter at any time. Afraid that they could wake up and find cold lying next to them in bed. 

When Armie enters him, he finally feels full and whole. His eyes wide open, staring at oceanic blue of Armie’s, not wanting to miss even a second of this moment. It feels like something else. As if they both are breaking to be put back together in the next instant as if their lives can be fixed by being held by each other. It’s not gentle, Armie hammers into him with force and purpose and Timmy meets him thrusting his hips up. It’s fast and hard, wrecking them both in the best way possible. Even with unyielding pace, the unrelenting push and pull as deep as Armie can sink, it’s soft and tender. In the way Armie curls his hand around Timmy’s hips, how Timmy’s fingernails scraps Armie’s back, how they both are breathing heavily into their parted lips because kissing is too hard. They come, one after another, and it feels like they are falling into oblivion.

Time doesn’t run in their favor. They want it, crave for it. For time to kiss, to hug, to be held. To drown in each other. Time to be them. Together. Outside these walls, after the night will come to an end, they will be forced to deal with their lives, the consequences of their actions. Deal with their demons. But not right now. Right now they are together. What matter is having their bodies close to each other. 

 

_ We’re running ’round like we don’t care, _

_ It’s gonna leave its marks somewhere _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> You can easily find me on tumblr @whaitis-inside


End file.
